Man Writes Poem by Jay Leeming

This just in a man has begun writing a poem
in a small room in Brooklyn. His curtains
are apparently blowing in the breeze. We go now
to our man Harry on the scene, what’s

the story down there Harry? “Well Chuck
he has begun the second stanza and seems
to be doing fine, he’s using a blue pen, most
poets these days use blue or black ink so blue

is a fine choice. His curtains are indeed blowing
in a breeze of some kind and what’s more his radiator
is ‘whistling’ somewhat. No metaphors have been written yet,
but I’m sure he’s rummaging around down there

in the tin cans of his soul and will turn up something
for us soon. Hang on—just breaking news here Chuck,
there are ‘birds singing’ outside his window, and a car
with a bad muffler has just gone by. Yes … definitely

a confirmation on the singing birds.” Excuse me Harry
but the poem seems to be taking on a very auditory quality
at this point wouldn’t you say? “Yes Chuck, you’re right,
but after years of experience I would hesitate to predict

exactly where this poem is going to go. Why I remember
being on the scene with Frost in ’47, and with Stevens in ’53,
and if there’s one thing about poems these days it’s that
hang on, something’s happening here, he’s just compared the curtains

to his mother, and he’s described the radiator as ‘Roaring deep
with the red walrus of History.’ Now that’s a key line,
especially appearing here, somewhat late in the poem,
when all of the similes are about to go home. In fact he seems

a bit knocked out with the effort of writing that line,
and who wouldn’t be? Looks like … yes, he’s put down his pen
and has gone to brush his teeth. Back to you Chuck.” Well
thanks Harry. Wow, the life of the artist. That’s it for now,

but we’ll keep you informed of more details as they arise.

School is just plugging along. I got a few pages done on my term paper today and with a little luck and persistence I should be able to meet my thursday deadline with a nicely constructed essay about the rise of religious nationalism in India. Let me tell you, it is a darn complex subject.

*******

I’ve really been enjoying myself the past couple of days, despite the impending doom of finals, papers, etc. I managed to get a jog in a few days last week and it made me feel like a free spirit all over again.
I think I’ve had more enjoyable conversations with David and Ben in the past 6 days than I have had with anyone (except my sis) in about a year. You guys rock, and please tell me to shut up if I start to ramble.

I think part of the reason for this unexpected bout of bliss that I am finally for the first time in a long while fully being who I am, both good and bad. I know it sounds strange, but I’ll try and explain it to you this way:
When I was in a relationship just a few months ago, I really had the feeling that my personality had somehow been pigeon-holed into a set of traits that were supposed to be “me” – Jon Breaux. However, like all people on this wonderful planet, I am a world of complexity unto myself. In other words, I think my significant other saw me only as she wanted to see me, as a set of comfortable (or maybe not so comfortable) traits that she was familar with. When I deviated from those set qualities, I was sternly reprimanded (why are you acting like that? you’re not ____).
Naturally, I was doing all of this to her personality as well, I’m sure.

However, I came to realize that sometimes I am ______ (insert uncharacteristic adj. here). My personality is not always a group of unified understandable traits. Frequently, I embody contradiciton in the same day. I am happy and sad. Nice and mean.
Everyone is like this.
But I think we get to the point where we compartamentalize people because it makes us feel safe. It makes them more knowable, less scary and ultimately – less human.
The sad thing is, I actually started to believe the things she (and a few others were saying about me). I started to feel like I was too introverted to do anything worthwhile, like I was defective for not having some mainstream tastes, the list went on.
The real truth is, I am actually a really friendly outgoing person. I’m confident in front of crowds. I’m not shy. I’m very capable. I have lots of mainstream tastes.
The reason I felt so terrible though, was because I was being constantly defined as something I wasn’t. This wasn’t all my s.o.’s fault – alot of it was my own – but she certainly didn’t help matters.

I don’t say this now to be mean or cynical about this old relationship. I say to affirm to myself that I am my own person, that I am many things, and that never again will I allow someone to define me and then believe their definition!

People will think what they want, but in the end I choose which voices are worth listening to (if any at all). So I’m reminding myself not to listen to negative voices, to voices that seek to limit or bring down.

perhaps Walt Whitman would be the most appropriate voice to end on then:

“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.”

This entry was posted by jon on Monday, April 24th, 2006 at 8:39 pm and is filed under journal, poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.